The Demon Within
by iheartShules
Summary: 'You'll never know what hit you, won't see me closing in, I'm gonna make you suffer, this hell you put me in, I'm underneath your skin'
1. Chapter 1

_**AN: Hi, my lovelies, this story grabbed a hold of me one day and refused to release me until I wrote some of this out. It's definitely AU. **_

_**This story is a work in progress so the updates will be sporadic, but with how angsty it is maybe it's for the best. Thanks for reading this for me and gave me encouragement to post and for proofing everything for me you are a life savior XD I heart you for everything.  
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_**This going to be rated M because it's so dark plus there will be graphic violence, some sensitive material that I'll give warnings before I post the chapter, and smut-maybe :D This is set after the events of 4x13 or my rather my guess at what happens in 4x13.  
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_**The lyrics in the summary are to an amazing song by the Digital Daggers called The Devil Within that sort of sets the feel to the story and a summary/title was eluding me.**_

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing.  
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* * *

"_You changed my mind, Joss, you changed me."_

Joss sat alone in her darkened study, quietly sipping a glass of red wine and reflecting on that night in the morgue as she so often did to keep herself sane. That night was when John cracked his carefully guarded heart open for her, so shyly, so delicately, but so beautifully. He exposed himself to her far more than he had when they slept together days prior to that night in the morgue. No, he had exposed himself emotionally that she was sure, much more then he had done in quite a long time. Ever since the time she met him, when he had been just a homeless man who needed saving, he had been carefully guarding his emotions and heart from the world and from her. She always longed for him to trust her enough to talk to her, show himself to her, and he finally had.

That night in the morgue had been the night she had known that she was in love with John. Moments prior to that time, like Rikers, or when he saved her from her C.I., or saved her son she had been falling ever so slowly in love with him. But that night when he decided to lure HR away using himself as bait she knew she was done for as there was no denying how she felt anymore, no more pretending what she was feeling for him wasn't love. All of that was gone, in one heartbreaking moment as his footsteps sounded off, growing softer as the distance between them grew greater.

Joss gripped the wineglass' stem harsher as unwelcome memories bombarded her, she drank the remaining remnants of the wine, nearly choking on it, before flinging the glass against the brick wall. It shattered into pieces, which mirrored who she currently was, a broken mess. She sat in the leather chair, trying desperately to calm herself, and not recall what had happened after that. She didn't want to remember being shot by Simmons, she didn't want to swim in the bitter memories of the basement she had been held in for months, she didn't want to remember the torture she endured by Decima. She closed her eyes and focused on her son, their happy times together, and prayed it would bring her relief, but her prayers went unanswered because she couldn't banish the painful memories that were threatening to suffocate her.

Joss cried out as she grabbed at her temples willing the images to go away, her eyes squeezed tight, but to no avail she couldn't purge herself of this eternal hell. Flashes scorched her brain forcing her to relive her hell over and over again. So she focused on John; on their brief but passionate time together. She latched onto their first and only night of lovemaking together. It happened days before she was going to take HR down. Joss had just learned who was the head of HR was thanks to Terney, had just come up with the plan of pitting the Russians and HR against one another to help her bring them down when John had come by her place. He had swung by, bringing beers, trying to cheer her up, and she had figured she wasn't going to make it out of the takedown of HR alive. So she acted on something that had been simmering between her and John which neither one was willing to give voice to and she had seduced John.

Joss relaxed her grip on the armrests as she smiled, thinking 'seduction' was a strong term, as John hadn't needed any nudging to act on his feelings for her. She just so happened to be the first to make a move. It had taken all but seconds before he responded to the kiss, taking control over their encounter, and it had been amazing. She was never been made love to in that way before, like she was the only woman in the entire world to him. John had filled her so fully, stretched her so wide. It hadn't been just sex as they both had claimed it was during the awkward morning after. But she had to lie because she didn't think she'd outlive the takedown of HR and she figured John lied to protect his heart. But that night of passion he had shared with her was a side she had not seen from John previously, his playful side.

She opened her eyes as the painful memories receded into a dark corner of her mind and weren't threatening to destroy her. She still trembled like a leaf but she lifted a hand to her cheek finding wetness, she dashed away the tears of anguish and took a calming breath. She hated having those episodes, they came with no warning whatsoever, and if she let them they could destroy her. Nothing ever could calm her down, she tried deep breathing exercises, she tried thinking about her son who she loved more than anything. But during one particular horrific episode she had subconsciously drifted to John, and it was John who had a calming effect on her. Maybe it was because he was quite possibly the only person to be able to understand her pain and help her, or maybe it was because she was in love with him in a far different way than her son. She didn't know what the case may be, but whatever it was, she was grateful that thinking of him during those episodes brought her back to reality.

Decima. Joss felt the terror evaporate as she thought about the people that made her this way, felt her shaking subside as anger burned through her. She was going to make them pay for what they have done to her. Make them experience her hell. Decima had stolen her life and her sanity. She had no doubt that eventually she would have a psychotic break and go crazy, which frightened her, frightened her enough to stay away from her friends and family. Or at least tried to stay away from her family and friends, she thought as she smiled ruefully. She was a low-class stalker with the way she followed her son and John around without their knowledge. She followed her son to his college, on his dates, when he was with his dad or friends, and was glad to see he was happy. Oh sure, she knew he was still grieving for her, he would go to her gravesite once a week just to talk to her, but he was moving on.

But John seemed to be stuck in reverse. The times she followed him, which, if she was honest with herself, was quite a lot more so than her son who was grieving and moving forward, he was back to his devil may care attitude. He let her 'death' change him, which angered and scared her. He was taking careless risks with his life and she couldn't handle it if something happened to that man, she wouldn't survive it. So she had taken her low-class stalking up a notch on him, just to keep watch, making sure he didn't do something stupid that got himself killed. She was half proud and half disgusted of herself over the fact that she bugged his home or rather John Riley's home. It hadn't felt like home to her for John, he belonged someplace else, namely with her. But she had carefully hidden the bug in his bedroom, longing to hear his soft snoring, many nights it had calmed her to find sleep herself that so often eluded her. And she had then placed a small webcam in his tiny bathroom. Her eyes unwillingly closed as his naked image flashed through her consciousness. Was it violating her John's privacy, maybe, but did it matter to her—not one single bit.

"I'm a fucking stalker," she muttered to herself as she reopened her eyes, gazing down at the soft cotton undershirt she had stolen from John's place that same night she installed the bug and camera. She had worked enough stalking cases to know a stalker when she saw one, and she was one, she thought despondently. But she wasn't about to stop following him or her son around, she couldn't, because she didn't have the willpower. They had gotten her through her darkest days, they had been the only things connecting her to this world and she would walk through the fiery depths of hell to find her way back to them.

She slowly rose to her feet, rolling her shoulders as she eyed the shattered glass on the floor; she would clean it up tomorrow morning, not caring. Years prior she would have hurried to clean up but she had a new lease on life, trivial things such as a mess weren't a priority. It would be there tomorrow. She exited her study, padding down the long and quiet hallway, the cold hardwood greeting her bare-feet. She eyed the closed doors but focused on one particular, one that was towards the end of the hall, longing to enter, however she entered the bathroom instead. Joss was itchy to go check in on her, but she needed her rest. Shaw had gunshot wounds to recover from, so did she for that matter, as she gingerly touched her shoulder that had been stitched and bandaged. But she needed Shaw's help in destroying Samaritan and Decima. She flicked the light switch on in the bathroom, sending the soft cool light cascading across her, while the cold black and white squared tile tickled her feet.

Joss smiled at her reflection, curving the scars that marred the left side of her face upwards. It had taken her months to not flinch or react to the hideous markings, she had finally come to terms with her new look, her new self, and her new sense of the world. She wondered if John would find her new scars and new hairdo attractive. Her hair had been a matted mess which no amount of showers and combing could ever untangle. So she had cut it, longer in the front, sweeping bangs, and very short in the back. It curved along with her heart-shaped face, shaping it quite nicely. Then she dyed it a soft honey color. She eyed her scars before she reached up, touching her jagged and reddish flesh. They were still setting, eventually they would turn her skin tone with age. She knew she could have reconstructive surgery but she didn't want that, not now anyway. No, she wanted to use these scars on her face to fuel her fury and need for retribution. She looked away, washing her hands, before brushing her teeth, and exited the bathroom.

She eyed the room she had placed Shaw in, needing to go check in on her petite friend and make sure she was still breathing. She trusted Mila's assurance that Shaw would make it, however until Shaw opened her pretty little eyes Joss was holding her breath. She walked to the room, opening the door as quietly as possible, not wishing to disturb her. She smiled as she found Shaw asleep in the bed still. She tip-toed to where Shaw laid on the large queen-sized mattress, moonlight glowing, giving her a little light to see that she still looked pale but better in the days since they rescued her from Decima's clutches.

Joss felt better since checking on her friend, before she moved to the window off to the side of the room in the darkness and looked out to the New York skyline.

* * *

Shaw woke up slowly, feeling like hell. She opened her eyes slowly, before sliding them shut against the brutally bright light. What the fuck? What happened? Shaw snapped her eyes open again, damning the bright light when she remembered vividly being shot several times by the blonde bitch and Decima cronies. Was she dead?

Shaw looked around her surroundings once her eyes adjusted to the light, which was in actuality pretty dim. The only light was coming in from the hallway which was lighting the otherwise dark room. Shaw found herself lying on a soft bed with blankets covering her. She eyed the room in disdain. Shaw groaned as she wiggled to get up, yep she definitely wasn't dead because death sure the hell wouldn't hurt this bad.

"Welcome back to the world of the living," Shaw froze when a soft whisper echoed across the room she was in, making her realize she wasn't alone in the room. Shaw looked around finding a silhouette in the corner of the darkened room. Shaw blinked a few times trying to make out the figure; judging by the size of the silhouette Shaw would say it was feminine. It wasn't Root, this figure wasn't tall enough and the whisper she didn't readily recognize though it did tug at her.

Shaw tensed even though her muscles screamed in agony. She felt like her head was swimming by just moving an inch. "Who the hell is there?" Shaw demanded. A haunted chuckle sounded. Shaw gulped wondering if perhaps she was actually dead and this was her hell. Damn it, she couldn't even catch a break in hell!

"You don't remember me?" the voice purred.

Shaw blinked her eyes, seeing a silhouette in the dark. "How about you cut the shit and show yourself?" Shaw commanded of the figure that was whispering and laughing at her.

"I always did enjoy your boldness and directness," the voice grew bolder, louder, and even more recognizable. "You're struggling to remember, I must not have made a memorable impression on you, Shaw," the voice said, speaking just above a whisper. She swallowed hard as she now easily recognized the voice, but it couldn't be. Shaw stared in shock as the woman exited the shadows, moonlight glowing across her face as she came face to face with a long dead friend. "Then again it could be because I'm supposed to be dead." She said with a soft tilt of the head.

"Carter?" she breathed as she eyed the woman before her. The figure leaned over beside her, turning a lamp on, and Shaw stared. Yep, the woman looked and sounded like Carter, but the woman before her was definitely different from the Carter she remembered. The Joss Carter she recalled had long dark hair, bright brown eyes, and a ready smile. This one had short and soft honeyed dyed hair, no light in her dulled eyes, half her face was marred with scar tissue, and the grin that was on her face appeared more sad rather than happy.

"You do remember me, although I'm quite different from who I was," she assured Shaw softly as she sat down beside her hip on the bed. "Are you alright, Sam?"

"How?" Shaw wondered out loud.

Joss smiled, curving the scars on her left side of her face upwards. "How are you alive or how I am alive?" she asked. Something was up with the woman that was sitting before her, but Shaw couldn't quite place her finger on it.

"A little of both actually," Shaw admitted, lying back, having no energy to remain upright. "Reese held you while you died in his arms." The moment she brought up John, a swift change shuddered across Carter's face and it wasn't easily readable so Shaw continued on. "There was a service, Carter; they laid you to rest, I was there."

She smiled. "Did you see a body?"

"Well no."

"That's because I woke up weeks after my supposed death, under lock and key with Decima. They saved my life. I met a very unfortunate man named Greer and he told me I was saved merely for information and leverage."

"Information?"

Carter nodded. "I had information on you guys, on John specifically, and he wanted it. Leverage because he knew how John felt about me and how I felt about him. I guess the old bastard was watching us before he seized his opportunity in apprehending me."

Shaw swallowed hard. She had always sort of wondered if there was something going on between Reese and Carter, but Reese wouldn't cop to it. He pretended they were just friends. Now it made sense why Reese went bonkers after she supposedly died.

"Was there anything worth watching, Carter?"

Carter laughed. "Is that your way of asking if anything happened between John and me, Shaw?" she questioned and she shrugged. "Yes, John and I had a sexual encounter prior to my supposed death."

Her jaw dropped open. "When?!" Shaw couldn't believe it, they had a secret fling that she didn't know about! She had prided herself on learning everything about John.

"I guess John and I did a bang up job of hiding it from you nosy people." She sounded triumphant. "John and I had a nice little….union before I took down HR."

Shaw beat the mattress with her fist. "How come I didn't hear anything with my bug on him?" she griped.

Carter laughed softly. "Oh, you mean the bug I found on John and left downstairs?"

"Damn you Carter!" Shaw felt shitty, but she couldn't even describe how glad she was that Carter was back from the dead. She had missed this woman so much. "So you and Reese huh, I guess it was more than just sex for him, which makes sense why he went bananas after you died…or supposedly died." Shaw could tell it was the wrong thing to say because Carter's softening look turned dark.

"I'll rectify that pain for him soon enough," Carter assured her darkly.

Shaw decided a change of subject was in need because Carter looked scary right now. "So, uh, what happened to me?" she asked as she found herself unable to move around much. She recalled being shot, but otherwise everything else was fuzzy.

"That's a long story and requires me telling you what happened to me to actually tell you your story of how I saved you."

Shaw opened her mouth to demand that she lay it on her, but there was a knock on a door. Shaw turned and watched as the door opened and a woman stood there. "Carter, you in here?"

"Come in," Carter smiled as she motioned for her to enter. Shaw watched as the woman did as requested. "Mila, this is who you helped save, my friend Shaw." Shaw eyed the tall red-head with deep set green eyes, and four tiny to slightly bigger star tattoos going from her right eye going diagonally up to her hairline. This woman was pretty with full red hair that draped to the middle of her forearms and curly. Shaw took in the bare midriff that was littered with scars and a tattoo of some sort of symbol. The woman was tall, approximately six feet, and she was muscular, but still managed to carry a feminine figure.

"I'm Mila, boss saved my life," the red head said with a look to Carter, a soft smile on her face. "And I'll do anything for her." Joss sighed as she waved her off.

"Boss?" Shaw leaned back and moaned. "So what is it that you do, Carter?" she questioned.

"Simple, what you guys do, save the world on a daily basis," she supplied. "Envision Mila as a taller version of you, and me as Root," she added; Shaw grimaced when Root was mentioned. Shaw hoped she was alright, she knew without a shadow of a doubt how Root felt about her. She had only kissed her to shut her up, to get her to let her go, and maybe there was a little part of her that sort of, kind of, maybe liked Root too. But when she got back, she would never let Root in on that fact. They just wouldn't work.

Then what Carter said struck her. "Wait, you work cases?"

"Yes," Carter assured before standing up. "You need rest, Shaw; we'll discuss everything later, but right now you need to heal."

"No I'm fine, I need answers. Carter you have been dead to us for over a year, what the hell happened during that time that you couldn't come back to us? You let Reese believe you were dead!" Shaw demanded accusatorially. She had to keep Reese from killing himself because he loved this woman and all this time she was alive!

Shaw watched as Carter's eyes darkened as she turned more fully towards her. Mila looked down. "Do not judge me, Shaw, you do not have any right, you have no idea what I went through. Decima took me, tortured and tormented me for months until they made one fatal error." Shaw stared up into Carter's dark gaze, seeing no warmth or friendliness there.

"And what error was that?" Shaw asked quietly, not wanting to upset her any more than she was already. She didn't know what happened to Carter, but judging by the scars, the change in her attitude, she must have been through something horrific.

"They implanted me with a chip that allowed me to access Samaritan at will, they wanted to see if it was even possible and if it was possible, could the human agent function. Well it was a success, it was implanted and it's functional. I know everything that Samaritan knows, which in effect makes for better agents for Decima and Samaritan." Shaw swallowed hard.

"So you were like the guinea pig?"

"Yes, you can say that, but what they didn't figure is that I would use that knowledge that I had access to, to escape. And I escaped eight months ago, been planning my revenge on Samaritan and Decima since then, and been watching John and my son as well as helping people along the way."

Shaw waited a breath, taking everything in, knowing that Carter was leaving a shit ton of stuff out but she wasn't interested in the colorful details anyway, not right now anyway. Only one thing needed to be asked and answered. "Why didn't you come back to us?" she left out the accusatory tone this time and focused on getting an answer that she needed.

"Because I needed to remain dead to do what needs to be done," she said simply.

Shaw eyed her. "And that is?"

"Burn Decima to the ground," Carter explained. "Have you heard of Athena?"

"A little," Shaw admitted, thinking back, which was growing harder to do as her body was yearning for sleep. "Reese and Fusco were working in conjunction with the FBI trying to solve those Athena cases. Athena is a serial killer that leaves calling cards on all their victims prior to murdering them. Before I died or almost died, Root said that all of the murder victims were Decima agents…." Shaw paused as her eyes widened. "No freaking way, you're Athena?"

"Yes, me and Mila are Athena, we are taking out high-ranking Decima agents using what Decima gave me; Samaritan." Carter explained with a tap to her temple. "Don't worry I'm the only walking monster they have because, before I escaped I took their plans with me, so they can't formulate another chip for another human agent unless I desire to give it back, which I don't."

"Carter, it's not like you to murder people."

Carter eyed her darkly. "That's because the Joss Carter you knew died in John's arms. I'm not the same woman I was before, I can never be her ever again." Carter's eyes welled up with tears. Shaw felt like she was on a see-saw because one minute Carter looked like a walking dead woman and the next she was on the verge of tears. "I'm not a good woman anymore, Shaw; I've lied, stolen about five million dollars to finance my operation, I've murdered, and sinned since being free from my hell. Am I proud of myself? No, but it is necessary in winning this war against Decima. Athena doesn't take prisoners, it just doesn't work that way against Decima."

Shaw nodded her head. "I actually agree with that assessment; Decima needs to stopped by any means necessary and it doesn't mean they get to live their lives out in prison. But why are you changing your code of honor, Carter?"

"Reason being because I realized that there will never be just good or bad, black and white; no the world is shaded in gray and that there are no good people, just good decisions. And the best decision, the right decision is to destroy Decima."

"And what about John, if Joss Carter is dead where does that leave you guys?"

She smiled. "Joss Carter may be dead but my love for him isn't; John and my son are what kept me breathing, and _no one_ will take them from me ever." Carter promised and Shaw yawned, still weak from her wounds. "Now you need to get some rest so you can heal up and help me stop these bastards once and for all." Carter said before turning to leave the room with Mila in tow. Shaw unwillingly fell back asleep with real worry that this Joss Carter was going to get herself truly dead this time.

* * *

"Why are you here?"

That was a good question, with no answer forthcoming. Root had no idea why she had sought him out of all people. Quite possibly to lash out at him, to assuage the certain amount of guilt she felt for what happened, or to be in his quiet presence who had gone through something so similar as to what she was dealing with just now. Root wasn't sure why she was on John's doorstep after they had searched for Shaw leading to dead ends, after they had tortured and tormented as many people as they could in their desperate search for her, but she was. She and John had arrived back from their road trip in search of Shaw just this afternoon, tomorrow he had to get back to work in the NYPD as he was out of paid time off, and she felt like she lost her only helper in finding Shaw. Harold was working cases with Fusco, everyone was already moving on from what happened to Shaw, like it was business as usual. John stood before her with glazed eyes, a beer in hand, lines of tension etched in his handsome face, and stood in an undershirt and his dress pants.

He was aching over what happened to Shaw as much as she was, however, in a very different way. Shaw was the yin to her yang, while she had no doubt that John valued Shaw in the field and as a friend. That friend was missing, the woman that came to mean so much to her was gone, and Root didn't know how to react. SHE offered no help, offered no words of wisdom or offered any condolences, but rather SHE was keeping quiet, allowing Root to muddle through her pain and anguish because SHE had no idea how to help for once. SHE was an A.I., and felt that Root needed human interaction not HERS, but all Root wanted was Shaw.

"Root…" he tried and gained her attention. "Why are you here?" he asked again.

She shrugged. "I don't know," she admitted. "But every time I close my eyes I see hers, I see Martine looming over her, and…." Her voice grew rough so she stopped. She didn't want to be this vulnerable in front of him. She cleared her throat. "….and I don't want to be alone."

He stepped back to allow her inside his place, his eyes were mistrusting as always, and dubious of her motives but she didn't care. She didn't care that she was jealous of this man's relationship with Harold, she didn't care about his palpable mistrust of her, and she didn't care that they shared absolutely nothing in common except for the fact that they were human. She just didn't want to be alone and he had known this same feeling as she was currently dealing with. He had lost his detective just as she had lost Sameen. Harold offered nothing but empty platitudes, as did Lionel. John hadn't. John hadn't offered her anything except for a quiet presence and help in their search for Shaw.

Root watched him as he shut the door, before moving in his tiny apartment towards the kitchen. John Riley's place was a far cry from what she was sure John had prior thanks to Harold. He opened the fridge before pulling out a beer, handing it to her. "If we are going to be sharing more company together, we need drinks," he explained. Neither one of them went out of their way to spend time with one another, John was water while she was oil, and they just didn't mix. But that hadn't stopped them from working quite well together during these last few days. Root snapped the cap off, the bottle cap bounced on the tiled floor with a soft metallic sound, and she gulped down the much needed alcohol.

"Why wasn't it me?" she wondered out loud after several tense moments of silence. "Or you, why did it have to be her?"

"I wish it was me," he whispered before taking some much needed alcohol in himself.

"So do I." Root agreed, finding something to attack instead of feeling grief, even if attacking the only person that understood her pain wasn't exactly intelligent. She just didn't want to feel this pain anymore. "Had you just done it, she would be here still, and you were already injured anyways!" She paused as he stared into her eyes but she didn't see anger just resolution. He agreed with everything she said and it burned through her. She wanted to fight something, with someone, wanted fury to build between them, so she could focus on that instead of what she was supposed to do now that Shaw was gone. Or focus on the suffocating feeling that was threatening to choke all the oxygen from her.

"Well at least we agree on something. It's a first for everything, I guess," John said quietly as he turned to walk away from her. He always managed to have the last word, always managed to make her feel angry because he was supposed to be the helper monkey and not be quite so observant or intelligent. He just wouldn't fit into the mold she wanted him to! She followed him into his living room where he was staring out the rectangular window. "It's never me," he whispered, this time his voice sounded rough, and all fight fled her. He truly wished he had sacrificed himself rather than Shaw. "Because I'd get to be with her, instead of living without her." And suddenly Root felt like she was intruding on him.

"How am I supposed to go on?" she questioned. John turned from the window to eye her with an unreadable mask on his emotions. "How am I supposed to do this without her?" Root loathed the burning sensation in the backs of her eyes. She blinked rapidly to keep the tears at bay not about to cry in front of him.

"You're asking the wrong person; I don't know the answer to that as I have never been very good at moving on," he admitted.

She let out a humorless laugh that sounded more like a choked sob. "Well at least you didn't tell me 'time heals all' like Harold and Lionel did."

He snorted. "Time doesn't heal all, no, time just dulls the pain you feel, making it more livable," he remarked, and judging by the finality of that statement, John knew all about it.

Root craved to know that she could feel something besides the all-encompassing pain she currently was drowning in. "Has it become more livable for you since your detective has been gone over a year now?"

John stared at her. "No, but then again it never will, Root, because I will never believe I deserve to be alive instead of her. Joss died to protect me and for that I hated her for quite a while." Root felt like she was looking in a mirror with this man. He felt the same things as she did. Shaw died to protect her and them, and she hated Shaw for that.

"Did you love Detective Carter?" She had a feeling he did by the way he had gone on a homicidal rampage to get to Quinn and Simmons. John's blue gaze clashed with her brown one. He looked ready to tell her to get out, he had enough of sharing, but he didn't.

John swallowed hard. "Yes, and I always will," he said thickly, rather reluctantly, as if he wasn't quite sure why he was telling her the truth, but was doing it anyway. "She's the reason I do everything now."

"What do you mean?"

"She's the reason I came back to the team, the reason I continue because I know that she would want me to. Joss would want me to help save the numbers, would want me to continue protecting those who needed protecting just as she selflessly had done for many years prior to me ever meeting her. She died to save me, I will not let her death be in vain," he said before turning away. He was done talking about Joss. She was a touchy subject for him and he was not willing to say anything more. He was still raw about what happened to Shaw and dredging up painful memories was like cutting himself open.

Root nodded, feeling pretty much the same way as he was, without realizing it. "Thank you for not slamming the door in my face." He turned to eye her sharply. He watched as she set her beer down on his coffee table. She wanted to be alone, needing to think things over. Mull over what John had told her.

"Root," he called out, and she paused from leaving. She turned to look back at him, finding he had not moved away from the window, but was looking at her.

"What, John?"

"We'll get them, for Shaw," he promised.

A ghost of a smile graced her lips. "I know," she agreed before turning and leaving. John turned to look back out the window, before holding out his beer in a toast to Shaw, before guzzling the last bit of it down.

* * *

AN: I hope you guys are ready for intense angst because this story is very dark and angsty but will have a happy ending eventually once we muck through all the pain to get there. But getting to write a story where I get to delve into Joss Carter's psyche and what would happen to her if this had happened to her was too good to pass up.

Also there is going to be Shoot, but this story is going to be heavily centered on Careese with flecks of Shoot sprinkled in and I know some of my fellow Careesers don't care for Shaw or Root much, but I promise to warn you guys if there is a lot of Shoot so they can skip ahead if they prefer not to read them.

Thanks for reading XOXOXOXOXOXOXOX


	2. Chapter 2

**_AN: Hi, I know some of you probably thought I forgot about this story but I haven't. It's just been torn apart a couple hundred times so I could have it the way I want. Sometimes it felt like Carter was too un-Carter like and then I struggled with the Samaritan plotline and how I wanted to go about it. Well, I have come up with the way I want it now. And I have till chapter 7 finished but outlined the entire thing. So now it's just a matter of doing. But I promise there won't be this long of a hiatus between updates ever again._**

**_Thanks for being patient with me XOXOXOXOXOX_**

**_P.S. Italics is a flashback_**

* * *

_Kubir Ganesha entered his luxury penthouse talking on his iPhone. He turned on the light after locking the door. "Yes I'm sure, Mr. Greer, my staff assured me that Martine's injuries are nonfatal and have already removed the bullet that she received in the shoulder," he assured Greer. He listened for several more minutes. "Yes, yes, take care." He ended the call._

_He put his cell phone and keys down on the table beside the door, before slinging his coat off and dropped the briefcase down near the door. His wife and kids left for out of town this morning to go visit her mother, which left him the place to himself. He rolled his shoulders, tucking some of his unruly long locks behind his ears, hearing a faint sound. He furrowed his brows, stood still, and listened. When nothing sounded again, he shrugged his shoulder and turned to walk towards the study when he let out a cry as a hand wrapped around his neck, and he felt something placed at his neck. He crumpled when he felt high electrical voltage course through his body, pain ebbing from his neck as he sunk to the floor unconscious._

_Joss eyed the man as he laid on the floor of his penthouse before looking at Mila. "Pick him up," she demanded as she walked into the study the man had been going into. _

_She grabbed out the desk chair at the large desk, pulling it out into the middle of the room. Mila did as she was told, using her considerable strength to pick up the skinny man, and placed him in the chair. Joss tied his hands with zip-ties to the armrests, and legs to the legs of the rolling desk chair._

"_Who is he, boss?"_

"_One of the doctors that placed the chip in my brain, I wonder if my screams keep him awake at night," she wondered and Mila looked down. If she was screaming that meant she had been awake when they performed the unfortunate surgery on her._

_Joss dragged a chair to sit across from him before she pulled out a smelling salt, opened it, and placed it under his nose. Kubir jerked upright and tensed when he couldn't move. His eyes opened and he looked panicked. "Hello, Dr. Ganesha, remember me? I'm your favorite patient, Joss Carter," she greeted with a soft pat of his knee, sitting back crossing her legs, and smiling void of any warmth. _

"_J-Joss,"_

_Her smile turned genuine. "I'm so glad you remember me, because I remember you and your crack staff, we have so much catching up to do." Joss turned to look at Mila who was standing in the doorframe leaning against it. "Leave us, Mila, please," she asked gently._

_Mila nodded, laying a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I'll be outside, call me if you need me." She turned and left. Everything was quiet in the penthouse. _

_Joss waited several minutes until she heard the door to the penthouse open and shut. She watched as Kubir struggled in his chair. "You can scream if you want, but no one will hear you or come to help you." Joss said. "That's what Greer told me."_

"_J-Joss,"_

"_Is that all you can say?" she demanded as she sat forward. "Not even nice to see you, how you've been, how's your noggin? Nothing?" she rifled off. She rolled her eyes. "Fine, I'll start. How's the wife and kids?" she asked out of the blue as if they were old chums._

_Kubir's eyes lifted. "You…"_

_She laughed as she waved him off. "Killed them? God no. Your kids are cute, I sincerely hope they have your wife's genes though, young too, so they won't remember the filth of a father they had. Your wife is a sweet little thing; surely she'll be able to find a new husband without much effort." Joss said with a soft tilt of her head._

"_Greer said you died," Kubir whispered. "I'm glad to see he was wrong."_

_She snorted. Of course he said that. Because to Greer whenever he was able to find her she was surely going to be executed. But the stupid bastard made the error of putting Samaritan into her head because she knew their moves before they did. They weren't ever going to find her until she was damn well ready to let them. _

"_Oh I am very much dead. You see, the old me would never have dreamt of revenge or murder. No, she was a good woman but I'm not her, not anymore."_

_Kubir stared at her. "What are you going to do to me?"_

"_Simple, I'm going to kill you but don't worry I promise I won't make you suffer months upon months of torture. I'm much more humane than that, your death will be quick, no suffering. I'm not a monster like I look." Joss leered at him, before getting to her feet as she circled him._

_She watched as tears welled up in his eyes as she came around to stand before him. "Please, you don't want to do this." She made a face, unmoved by the waterworks._

"_No?"_

"_I-I kept y-you alive."_

_She chuckled. "Oh you mean the surgical repairs you did on me, keeping me alive enough so they could torment me some more. Yeah, I guess I should thank you for making me this way."_

"_They employed me to save your life when you nearly were fatally shot in the chest. I saved your life, Joss, I didn't know they were going to save you just to torture you," he said._

_Anger bubbled up in her. "So what about those surgical repairs huh? I asked you to not suture my wounds to not give me blood transfusions, to not save me, and what did you say? You were paid to keep me alive and that's what you were going to do, money meant more to you then human life. And then you drilled a hole in my skull, oh sure you gave me a local numbing agent which I do appreciate, but I knew what you were doing, could smell the iron scent of my own blood, and I begged you to stop. I begged you to stop because they implanted this chip in my brain making me their lab rat so they could make super soldiers to do Samaritan's bidding quicker, like robots. And do you know what those operatives that would get the implant in their brain would immediately do?—go after the people I care about, hunt them down like animals, and kill them," she explained coldly._

"_I had to keep making surgical repairs, to give you blood transfusions and to save you. I couldn't stop the surgery to implant that chip in your brain because Greer threatened my family when I tried. Please, Joss, I'm sorry," he interjected as more tears fell down his face and her anger exploded._

_She felt hollow inside, she didn't believe him. "It's a little too late for apologies and tears isn't it, Dr. Ganesha. You made your decision and so have I."_

_She watched as his tears dried up and he lifted his chin a little in defiance. "Do what you must, as I did what I had to so I could protect my family from Greer. I'm sorry for the role I played in your torture, I'm sorry for what they did to you, but I chose to protect my family over a stranger and while it sounds cruel I'd do it again in a heartbeat. My wife and my children mean everything to me." Joss eyed him as she trembled a bit. His fear of dying was gone. _

"_Just as John and my son mean everything to me," Joss agreed softly._

"_I just ask of you to take me somewhere else to kill me, or to call it in so that my children and my wife won't come home to find me dead. I beg of you."_

_She couldn't murder this man because she believed him. The moment he stopped begging for his life and asked for her to move him to protect his wife and kids from the sight, told her the truth. Kubir was hired to save her from the near fatal wound by Simmons, only it became something far more sinister than the doctor ever anticipated. Kubir had probably thought of it as easy money to save her, then he became Greer's lackey forcing him to save her so they could torture her for information. They had the right leverage on Ganesha, his love for his family. _

_She couldn't take this man's life because she couldn't fault him for choosing his wife and children's lives over hers. She was so set on getting her vengeance on those that did this to her that she allowed her judgment to get skewed. She needed to keep her vengeance solely on Greer and the agents that tortured her and turned her into this monster she was. _

"_Maybe you do have some use to me to live."_

"_I'll do anything," Dr. Kubir Ganesha had an in to Greer, Greer would never suspect that Ganesha would be working for her. She smiled._

"_Alright, Kubir you work for me now." She said turning to press a hand to her ear, hitting the button on the earwig. "You can come back in now, Mila; we have a new asset in exterminating Decima," she whispered._

"_Yes, boss."_

_She turned to look at Kubir. "If you, in any way, let Greer know that I made contact with you, I won't hesitate to kill you because I'll be protecting my life and those I love, understood?" she said coldly, making sure he understood her explicitly._

"_You have my word, I won't tell him."_

_She nodded her head. "Good, now Mila, you, and I need to have a nice long chat to come up with a steady plan on taking down Decima."_

* * *

Shaw was getting out of bed no matter what anyone said. She had been listening to Mila, to Carter, and to her body for weeks now, trying to regain her strength and let her body heal. Carter and Mila took turns helping her shower, change her dressings, and change her loose fitting pajamas. Shaw typically slept in the nude, but had to admit that the matching pink-satin tank/shorts pajamas that she was currently dressed in were comfortable, even if they were too girly. Maybe, she'd buy a set and rip anyone's tongue out that even attempted to make a joke about her owning a pair.

But she was going to die of boredom if she didn't get out of this bed soon for more than going to the bathroom, and she was going to do it without anyone's help.

While she had been cooped up trying to recuperate over her wounds, Shaw had studied the room she was in to the smallest and finest detail. She memorized every spider-web, every minor paint chip, and every scuff on the dark hardwood floor that needed some cleaning.

Shaw flipped the blankets off, slowly wiggling her short legs over the edge of the bed. She was going to go slowly insane if she didn't see something besides these four walls. Shaw grabbed the headboard as an aide in her endeavor but quickly realized her body was a piece of shit. She gritted her teeth as it was difficult to get into a sitting position, so much so that sweat beaded above her upper lip and on her forehead. She didn't even breathe until she was sitting up, exhaling roughly, blowing her bangs that fell on her face up in the air and dragged in air through her nostrils.

"I hate fucking gunshot wounds," she muttered to herself.

"I do too." Shaw jumped in surprise at the soft voice which did nothing to help her aching body; she hadn't heard the door to her room open; Carter stood in the doorframe with an unreadable expression.

Shaw focused on her rather than the aches and weakness she was feeling. Carter's hair looked good short and colored; she had soft makeup on, and was wearing a purple sweater with tight black pants. The scars…well, they were a new detail to Carter that Shaw was still getting used to.

"Don't you ever make a noise?" she grumbled. Shaw enjoyed sneaking up on people as much as the next person, but Carter was eerily quiet.

Carter shrugged. "I prefer not to," she admitted as she entered the room fully to slide her arm around Shaw's waist, helping her stand up. "If you are dead set about getting out of bed and out of this room, let me help you."

"I can do it myself," Shaw assured her irritably, which was met with a nonchalant shrug as Carter let go of her. Shaw nearly took a header when she tried to take her first weak and pathetic step alone, before Carter caught her.

Carter eyed her with a knowing look as if she had done something similar herself, as Carter held her up. "Your body needs time to heal, Shaw; it has suffered some serious trauma, as an almost doctor you should know that." As Carter helped turn her towards the door to leave, Shaw scowled as Mila entered with an empty wheelchair.

"That better be for Carter, because it sure the hell isn't for me," Shaw said with a dismissive wave of her hand in Mila's general direction.

Carter eyed Shaw with an expression that she couldn't easily read. "Look, I know this has been hard for you, but you can barely walk, you need the wheelchair."

"I don't need that damn thing," she countered.

"You do if you are going to get out of this room. I'm not going to let you do irreparable damage to your body, Sam. You need to get better to help me and our friends take down Decima, Martine, and Samaritan," Carter said as if knowing what the magic words would be. She'd do anything to bring down that wrinkly old prick along with the blond Terminator. They had some unfinished business that was to be continued from the department store. Shaw looked at Carter, then back at Mila who had the wheelchair handles in hand.

Shaw motioned at the wheelchair irritably. "Bring that stupid thing over here." Mila smiled and did as asked. Shaw pushed the helpful hands away, wanting to do this by herself. Once seated, Shaw sighed, much better then standing. Mila went to push her but she shook her head, grabbing the wheels stubbornly. "I can do it myself."

"You're very stubborn," Mila murmured.

"Me? You work for Carter, she's like ten times more stubborn than I am," she said and Carter actually chuckled softly but said nothing as she led them towards the hall that she had only seen glimpses of from her place in bed.

She eyed the hall. "Where are we?"

"Main floor of an old Victorian mansion I purchased out in the Catskills where there is limited cell service, and cameras aren't nearly as prominent here. However, I made the inside of this lovely Victorian mansion more up to date than the outside surrounding it," Carter murmured and Shaw had no doubt as she eyed the steel elevator that was near a spiral staircase that went up or down. "The home I purchased under an assumed name; Joss Jones, with some of the stolen funds I procured. It is three stories including the basement, top story I converted into my private quarters which is off limits on the little tour I'm about to give you."

Carter's flat tone told her she meant business that it was indeed off-limits, which meant that she was going to go snooping around when she felt better and find out what Carter was hiding up there.

They toured the main floor of the mansion, to the kitchen, to the den that was made into a training facility, and to the living room that was just that, a living room with a large television. Mila showed off her guest room on the main floor level that was beside hers, before they entered the elevator, where Carter firmly pressed the down button. It was quiet in the elevator on the short journey down and when the doors opened, Shaw looked around while Carter wheeled her out. She couldn't even grunt out an angry retort because she was surprised by the basement. It was updated and state of the art, high-tech, and kind of a cooler version of the Batcave.

The basement was converted into Carter's base of operation. There were several long tables with laptops, paperwork, and old takeout food containers littering them; not to mention, behind those tables were six large projector screens, each with a different camera feed. One of the feeds was of the precinct and she saw Fusco's fat head. Shaw noted that two screens scanned the streets of New York, one flipped through Victorian home suggesting that Carter had webcams littering this place, while the last two said 'no connection' which meant they were probably used to watch whoever they chose for Athena to go after.

"The webcams that are placed in here and at the precinct are on a private network that is encrypted so even Samaritan can't gain access to them." Carter explained as she wheeled her further in and Shaw was taken aback at how upscale this was, it must have taken Carter a great deal of time to renovate this basement. Carter was good at the details, she decided. There were three rolling bulletin boards that had a map of Decima workers and at the very top was pinned a Greer picture.

"This is pretty bad-ass," Shaw admitted, seeing an eyeful of the weaponry and body armor in the back that was neatly laid out, as if they needed it at a moment's notice it was within reach. "Reese would be impressed," Shaw muttered. Actually if she bet money, this side of Carter would make Reese horny as hell.

Carter didn't comment as she wheeled Shaw back towards the large projection screens. Shaw eyed the precinct feed, sliding her friend a sidelong look as Reese walked in view of the camera. Carter's gaze softened the moment he did and for the first time since finding her friend alive, she truly looked content, for a moment at least. Shaw might not be able to feel her emotions but she understood them, the look on Carter's transfixed face was easy to read: love.

Shaw glanced at Mila who excused herself, leaving them alone in the basement. "Maybe it's time to come out of hiding, Carter," Shaw suggested the moment they were alone. Mila, to her, was an outsider, she didn't trust her.

"I can't,"

"Why not?—if you and Mila teamed up with us we could take down that old prick, his blond puppet, and Samaritan."

Carter glanced at her. "I doubt Finch and John will let me continue my work as Athena."

"Are you really doing the dirty work or is Mila?" Shaw demanded. It was one thing plotting and planning, but doing the work was completely different. She needed to know how far gone her friend was.

"I've killed four Decima agents; two to escape and the two that were going to harm you. Mila has specified she'd do all the Athena killings."

"Why is she doing them all?"

"Mila says I'm a good person," Carter growled. Clearly Carter didn't agree with Mila's estimation, however her friend wasn't exactly overriding Mila either. Shaw relaxed, this Mila was trustworthy, she knew that Carter wasn't a coldblooded killer.

"Why are you having them killed, you know they are just going to replace them?" Shaw asked. This was something she had been wondering for the two weeks she'd been here and since learning Carter was Athena.

"I want them to."

"Why?"

"Because the men and women that are replacing the Decima agents are people that I have saved since being freed from my death sentence. The machine has known I've been alive for several months now, since I contacted her. She has been sending me the names of men and women who landed on the irrelevant and relevant lists, helping me build my army, while sending you any other irrelevants," Carter murmured.

Shaw's eyes widened. "You were working numbers?"

She shrugged. "The number working was left mainly for you, John, and Finch. I only requested the machine to give me the numbers of those who were military trained so I could build an army to infiltrate Decima."

"You are having Mila kill off loyal Decima workers, replacing them with people loyal to you, and when you are ready you are going to cripple Decima from the inside out." Shaw said in awe, she had to admit that it was some fucking plot. Good thing Carter was on the side of good and not evil.

Carter shrugged. "I have a man on the inside who I forced to help me keep my guys that have infiltrated Decima alive."

"How do you make sure Decima takes these new recruits?"

Carter smiled. "Greer really shouldn't have placed Samaritan into my brain because I know how to do things that I didn't before," she murmured quietly.

"Are you ever going to tell me how the hell that thing works in your head?"

"Eventually," Carter said slowly, which meant not today. "But now you see why I can't give up Athena. I have come too far now to stop."

"I get it, but it's also a way to be close to Reese without showing yourself," Shaw muttered. Reese had become absorbed in the Athena case since 'Athena' had started addressing the calling card to him, as if taunting him to figure it out. Carter had created a cat and mouse game with John, she was the mouse teasing John, the cat, and Reese was falling for it hook, line, and sinker. It was bugging the hell out of him that there were no clues, no trace, and certainly no evidence.

Carter smiled a real honest to goodness smile. "Yes, it reminds me of when we first met," she admitted softly as she got a faraway look in her eyes. "I was so dead set on finding John and arresting him I had become fixated on the man-in-the-suit."

Shaw nodded recalling when the three of them had gone out for beers. She had listened as Carter and Reese reminisced about how they met after she asked. Shaw had paid attention to their looks, struggling to make out what was going on between them. It didn't make sense then, but now it did.

"But I don't think it's a good idea of us joining forces though, us operating separately is better. They have two threats coming at them from different angles." Joss went on.

Shaw eyed her. "I think it's better if we did, Carter, I mean we would have the machine's knowledge with Root and Samaritan's knowledge with you. We would have both gods fighting for our cause, in tandem, and unbeknownst to the old waxed mannequin!"

"Root has sure rubbed off on you with the 'god speak,' just how close did you two get, Shaw?" Carter asked with a carefully arched brow.

Shaw didn't rise to the bait. "You'd get to see Reese and your kid again, while helping take down Decima, so it's a win-win." And she'd get to see Root again, not that she needed too or anything, but it was just to make sure the nerd was alright.

A kaleidoscope of emotions flickered across Carter's normally neutral face before everything was carefully masked. "I'll think about it," she hedged and Shaw felt a glimmer of real hope at ending that miserable old man's existence and taking down Samaritan. Root was right, when Pandora's Box was opened all that was left was hope, and that hope came in the form of Joss Carter.

* * *

AN: In the next chapter we'll be seeing Reese and Root again.

Thanks for reading and thanks again for being so patient with me XOXOXOXOX


	3. Chapter 3

_**AN: Only a couple months hiatus instead of a year...I'm cutting it down ;D And the part in italics is flashback to Joss's time in captivity and it is slightly graphic, so if reading what she went through is too much for you, please skip down to past the line break with the italics part. I did promise to let any Careeser know about anything 'Shoot' as I know some out there dislike them. So at the bottom there is stuff with Root, I wanted to give clarity of where Root is mentally. And sorry for sounding like a broken record but this is first and foremost a Careese story as I can't help myself they own my heart so if you are reading hoping for lots of Shoot they play a small role in this as I sprinkle them in here and there. Okay, now I'll shut up :)  
**_

* * *

_Joss refused to cry, refused to beg for mercy, and she certainly refused to feel exposed as she lay on a metal slab completely naked. Her hands and feet were tied down, she was spread eagle._

"_Jocelyn, my dear." She froze at that voice she was growing to hate._

_Joss lips tightened as she eyed Greer who appeared in her vision. "Greer," she greeted._

"_How are you this fine afternoon?" he questioned as if he didn't have her naked, strapped to some slab, and most likely about to torture her._

"_Good," she spat. "Breakfast was delicious this morning, old moldy toast and stale water is my favorite." she deadpanned. Greer chuckled a little._

"_I do love your spirit, Jocelyn, perhaps John did too."_

"_Is this where you'll ask me again to take you to him so you can hunt him down and murder him?—go to hell."_

"_If you'll just agree to lure Mr. Reese here I'll let you go; John's life for yours, so you can go home and be with your beautiful boy." _

_Her blood ran cold. "I'll kill you if you so much as lay one hand on my son!" She struggled in her binds._

_He chuckled. "Relax, Jocelyn, I am not going to harm your child. He is an intelligent, well-mannered citizen. When I finally get Samaritan operational it won't want to get rid of citizens who are like your son. Samaritan will get rid of deviants, outliers, and exterminate men and women like your friends and John," he assured her, Joss slowly relaxed as much as she could in the position she was in. "Now that that's out of the way, give me Mr. Reese."_

_She shook her head. "No."_

_He sighed. "Jocelyn, you are not helping yourself here. But since you are in love with Mr. Reese, how about we make this simple; give me Ms. Shaw then? You have no personal ties to her, surely you'll give her life up for your own."_

_Joss looked away. "No."_

"_Harold?"_

"_Do you not know the meaning of no, old man?" she snarled as she looked at him. "I won't give you John, Harold, or Shaw."_

"_How about Ms. Groves?—surely Ms. Groves you'll give us, for your life."_

_Joss stared at the old man. "No," she whispered unwilling to give him anyone. She would not let any of them die at the hands of this man, no matter what the personal cost was to herself._

"_Is protecting their lives so important to go through this?" Joss refused to look at him as she stared up at the ceiling as she felt a man insert a hard but cold blunt object into her vagina. It hurt and she squirmed in pain. "One last chance, Jocelyn,"_

_She looked Greer dead in the eyes. "Go to hell," she growled._

_He shrugged as he nodded and she screamed as electricity shot from the foreign rod. Finally oblivion overcame her._

* * *

Joss sat brooding, as she often did nowadays. Mila was upstairs in the lobby training with Shaw, trying to get her back in shape, rehabbing her. The destruction those bullets had done to Sam were nearly fatal and the slow healing process was starting to piss the woman off. She didn't like being sidelined or the strict diet she was on. Joss couldn't even say she blamed Shaw as she was just as independent herself. But while she had been in the basement during her captivity she didn't receive proper rehab, which is why some of her bones didn't set right and why she didn't heal right. In her upstairs quarters, she had taken Kubir's suggestion of buying a Jacuzzi whirlpool tub for hydrotherapy to help her aches and pains.

She sat fixated on the precinct feed because John was there. Her eyes traced every contour of his body, the way his suit blazer was tailored to fit his trim but big six foot tall body. Her mouth parted, her breath hitched as he bent over perfectly for her hidden camera. But she noted that John and Fusco were hard at work on the Athena case. She smiled softly watching John as they stood near Fusco's desk, talking with the captain. Their new Captain, Captain Moreno was a good woman, hard-nosed, but fair. Which was good, she would hate to think scum were going to manage to slink their way back into the precinct after everything she did to annihilate it.

She was going to send Mila to her friends' underground lair after she was finished with the workout with Shaw since both Finch and John were at work right now and place a hidden camera down there on their private network. Shaw was tense, clearly worried about Root and annoyed that she was worried about the woman and how she was taking her presumed dead status. Joss felt having eyes on the woman would settle Shaw down, as it did for her with John.

However they were running low on funds which reminded her that she needed to steal about another 5 million dollars, maybe more. Not that the person she was going to steal it from would miss it, Harold was loaded. Joss smiled wryly, wondering what he would say if he ever found out. Probably nothing since Harold Wren's assets were frozen thanks to Samaritan and Decima as that alias was synonymous to Harold Finch's. The money was just sitting there waiting to be used and she figured Harold wouldn't mind his billions being used to get his life back.

She turned from the projector screen, tearing her adoring gaze off John's lovely face to look to the closed elevator as it made a sound. The doors opened and she saw Mila and Shaw making their way out of the elevator slowly. Both were still in their workout bras and black spandex shorts, sweaty, and hair out of sorts as they made their way out. Mila had one of Shaw's arms around her shoulders, supporting her weight, and Shaw looked grumpy.

"I'm hungry." Shaw complained.

Joss rolled her eyes. Shaw had been complaining about her soft foods diet for a while now. Mila was progressively working her up to solid and full meals to build her muscle mass and strength up. "You're always hungry," she replied quietly.

"That's because you're starving me; it's not very hospitable starving your guest."

Joss eyed her. "You'll eat bigger meals and less soft foods when Mila says you're healthy and well enough to do so. Your soft foods diet is to build you up gradually and get you healthy again, Shaw, and you know this. And once that happens I'll buy you five steaks for the wait," she promised.

"All prime ribs," Shaw stipulated.

Joss smirked. "Deal," she agreed before turning in her seat to eye her friends more fully. "Mila is going to be going to our mutual friends' underground lair soon to place a hidden webcam so you can keep watch on Root and then you can relax," she said and Shaw's look grew cross. Joss shrugged. She wasn't stupid and she wasn't going to pretend to be either. If Shaw didn't want to deal with whatever was between them that was fine, but she was tired of fielding question after question about Root. This was easier for them both.

Mila removed Shaw's arm from around her shoulders. Shaw collapsed into a chair beside her, unwilling to admit she was feeling any weakness. "You'll need the code," Shaw muttered as she scribbled what to do on a slip of paper before handing it to Mila.

"Any place in particular I should place it, Sam?" Mila asked innocently and Joss felt a laugh bubble up and escape her at Shaw's look, having no doubt where Shaw wanted to tell Mila to 'place' it. Mila turned to look at her unexpectedly, then smiled.

"You really need to restate your question, Mila, because you won't like where I tell you to put it for starving me," Shaw assured her. Mila's green eyes flashed in anger. "But the best place to put it is inside the old subway train we use to house our supplies," Shaw said after a long suffering sigh.

Joss eyed Shaw for a brief moment, feeling kind of bad for her. Shaw gave off the impression that she never sat still once in her entire life, so this must be grating on her nerves. Shaw needed action, needed the thrill of danger, not being stuck sedentary.

Mila turned and walked to the elevator, evidently not ready to make amends with Shaw. "I'll go now to the subway and place the webcam so you can keep watch on your girlfriend," she sniped before the elevator doors closed.

Shaw glared. "Root's not my girlfriend," she announced as if Mila could hear her.

"You asked for that, Shaw," Joss commented.

Shaw exhaled. "Being stuck here is starting to piss me off. I need to do something. I can't take the slow recovery much more."

"How about giving me some information?—specifically on the Brotherhood, the war between Elias and Dominic, and how did John get smack dab in the middle of it?" Joss asked and Shaw eyed her a little startled.

"Why, is that chip in your noggin malfunctioning?"

"The chip embedded in my brain allows me to see, hear, and know what Samaritan sees, hears, and knows." Carter's voice was gruff giving off an indication that she didn't talk about it much. Shaw was just grateful she was finally saying something about it. Shaw wasn't stupid she had a vague idea how that thing in Carter's brain worked but still the particulars would be nice. "Thankfully, whoever built this chip's prototype took into account that human brains and computer brains are two very different things. If I could see, hear, or know what Samaritan does all in a blink of an eye I'd probably be brain-dead."

"So the chip in your head has a filtering system of sorts?" Shaw asked.

She nodded. "Yes, you can think of it that way. The chip was meant to help agents be better in the field, once implanted it becomes an extension to the brain, so all I have to do is think of someone, somewhere, or something and a fountain of information comes to me." Joss explained and Shaw's brows furrowed. "Take John's alias 'Detective John Riley' for example, Shaw. I know where he lives, his social security number, what's he's doing if he's in front of cameras, I can hear him if he's not using that mesh-net phone of yours. Everything and anything comes to my mind about John Riley that I want to know that Samaritan knows from its time of observing and listening in on him."

"How about Riley being Reese? Does Samaritan know that?" Shaw asked fearing that Reese blew his cover.

"No, whatever Root and The Machine did to Samaritan, making it blind to you guys worked. Samaritan still hasn't figured out John Riley is the man in the suit known as John Reese, thankfully. Even when your alias was burned Shaw, you were flagged as deviant. Samaritan never recognized you as Sameen Shaw."

Shaw nodded her head. "So that means you knew about my alias being burned?"

"I did and at first I was going to have Mila go grab you, but was alerted to the fact that Root had come to your rescue," Carter said and Shaw glared at her. Why did she have to bring up Root rescuing her at this moment? She recalled how tightly Root had held onto her. The way she had almost been desperate to get her to the underground subway.

Shaw didn't know what to do with these unfamiliar feelings that coursed through her that she had no names for, and no understanding of, so she ignored them. "So how did you save me?"

"I learned there was a flash crash with the stock market and I knew it had to have been because of Samaritan. I tried focusing on John first and panicked when I couldn't find him, by the time I stopped worrying about him, you had been shot by Martine already and being loaded in a refrigerated truck by Decima agents."

Shaw nodded, not taking offense. Reese meant everything to this woman. "Most likely they were using the shadow map by then which was why you couldn't find Reese." she conveniently left off the fact that Reese had taken a bullet at the stock market. Carter was fucking scary angry as it was, no need for her to know there was a new bullet hole in Reese by the people that tortured her for fun.

"They were loading you up in the truck; they wanted you alive for information. They were going to use you like they used me and I wasn't going to let that happen." Carter's face deadened in seconds, most likely reliving her time in captivity when she had been held for information.

She cleared her throat, trying to jolt Carter out of whatever trance she just entered. "What happened after you realized I was in some sort of refrigerated truck?" she prodded.

"You were then transported to upstate New York to a small town in that refrigerated truck. I got there with Mila, killed the Decima agents that were with you. Mila was a trained medic before joining the SEALS so I knew if there was anyone that could save you it was her. Then I brought you here, where a friend had a look over on you when it was clear that your injuries went past Mila's skills. You know the rest."

"I see." Shaw murmured. Obviously Carter was giving her the shortened version of things which was alright with her. All Shaw needed to know was Carter was alive and well, the rest didn't matter.

"Now tell me, why is John on the Brotherhood's radar? What has he done while not being seen by Samaritan?" she asked Shaw.

"Reese did what Reese does best, which is being a pain in the ass. John has cost Dominic a lot of money, some drugs, saved Elias, and some other people Dominic wanted dead."

"Dominic wants John dead, but before that he wants to know who John really is and who he works for," Joss admitted as she sat back. "His alias's number will be coming up eventually thanks to Dominic, and when the time comes, I'll protect John." she vowed.

"And how are you going to protect Reese if you won't go anywhere near him?"

"I have given a lot of thought of what you said about coming out of hiding to him and our friends."

"Yeah, what conclusion have you come too?"

"I still haven't decided what I want to do but working together with our friends would give us an advantage that I didn't take into account with Decima and Samaritan." Joss said. But she hadn't let go of her fear of seeing John again after what had happened to her. She could color it any way she wanted too, to Mila and Shaw, but she couldn't lie to herself. She knew the real reason she was hiding from John which had nothing to do with knowing he couldn't survive if he lost her for real.

Joss missed Shaw's look as she turned to look at John who was hard at work, working on the Athena murders.

* * *

John yawned, leaning his cheek against his palm as he looked over the Athena file, again. He was unaccustomed to not finding a link, a thread, a clue as to who was doing this. Besides knowing all the men and women being murdered by the serial killer known as Athena were Decima workers, there was nothing tying them together. To the normal world the Decima workers were everyday people, similar to who Finch, Root, and he were. To this precinct and to the FBI agents they were working in conjunction with, these people were just random victims being chosen out of a hat to be murdered. Nothing linked them together at all, not their age, location, or even their alias's job.

"Hey partner, did you figure anything out yet?" Fusco said, gaining his attention. He shook his head and Fusco sighed. "I figured if anyone could figure out this Athena serial killer case it would be you, wonder-boy," Fusco admitted. And John was a little annoyed he hadn't figured out himself.

John wasn't dumb, he had spent decades learning how to cover up crimes, and was good at investigating. But the case was stumping him. The murders were now happening more and more frequently with an added taunt because now she would leave the calling card with the next victim's name scrawled on the back of it and days later, even with the impending victims under police protection, they would end up dead. Athena had made it personal by addressing the notes solely to him, which concerned his captain at how brazen she was getting. The captain was close to yanking him off the case until he assured her he was fine. The leash was getting tighter and tighter, however, because the captain accompanied him and Fusco to the scenes of the crimes. But having the serial killer fixated on him wasn't what worried him, what worried him was how Athena was getting to the victims at all.

John got to his feet carrying the Athena casefile with him, moving to the captain's office and knocked. "Come in," she called out. He entered, she motioned to shut the door, and he did quietly. "What's up Riley, did you figure something out for the Athena case?" Moreno asked sounding hopeful.

He shook his head as he sat down. "No, but I had a question for you, captain. You were involved with the FBI Agents, Goodell and Wilson, in choosing the safe house for the latest victim, right?"

"Yeah and what of it, Riley?"

He opened the case file, flipping to the most recent police report. "Abraham Ullman, age thirty-five, bank manager, was the last victim, three days ago."

"Yes,"

John looked up. "He was also taken into police protection by you and two FBI agents." He paused and she nodded. "Did you stay at the safe house?"

"No, I left Mr. Ullman with the agents, I just accompanied them to the safe house for additional backup. You and Fusco were to do it, but I decided against it with the way Athena seems to have focused on you, Riley." Moreno said with a furrow of the brows. "Why do you ask?"

"Something seems off, quite possibly Athena isn't working alone. Somehow Athena knows exactly where the victims are being taken, knows where all the cameras are at every location so she is never caught on camera. No one is that good."

"You think one of the agents or me is a mole, don't you?"

He smiled. "Not you captain, I was more aiming for one of the agents."

"Good minds think alike, Riley, because I was considering the same thing. I wasn't going to tell you but the agents were left with the calling card addressed to you, but they opened it and found the next victim's name; Tracy Viscelli. She has no priors, nothing; she's thirty-two years old and a secretary for a local law firm."

John thinned his lips. Mr. Ullman's murder happened three days ago, and they never once thought of telling him who the next victim was. Tracy Viscelli, he would have to call Finch or Root to see if they could find any real information on her. "Captain, was it wise opening the card addressed to me and then not telling me about it." he questioned slowly.

She pointed a finger at him. "Listen and listen good, Riley the only reason you haven't been reassigned is because you are one of my best detectives, and I need my best detectives on this case. That's all. A serial killer is focusing on you and she could become obsessed with you, Riley. The cat and mouse game can be seductive and she may be blurring the lines, we don't even know why she's doing this."

He nodded his head, he had never argued and won with Captain Moreno. "Alright, I'll try to look into this newest name now," he said as he stood up.

"You do that. And tomorrow you, your partner, and I will accompany the agents to keep an eye on them when they transport Ms. Viscelli to her new humble abode until she's safe. We need to figure this out before the serial killer strikes again." He grimaced. He didn't want to get stuck on babysitting duty, but maybe if they could catch Athena then at least one problem would be taken care of. He stood up, exiting her office with a roll of his shoulders.

* * *

"Please tell me that she is alive," Root begged as she looked out her window up to the starry sky. There wasn't a cloud in sight, which made it quite cold, but allowed for great viewing. She was alone at her place which was small, empty of any personal belongings. The only thing of any value, monetary or sentimental, was the medal little Gen had given Shaw. Root had taken it before Sameen's apartment was cleaned out, stripped to the bone, and rented out to someone….more willing to pay.

This medal was all she had left of Sameen.

When SHE offered no answer, she felt herself harden. Root felt split in half because one half of her wanted to believe that Sameen was alive. That Sameen would just materialize out of thin air and let her breathe once more, as she had in that hallway of the Stock Market Exchange.

But the other half of her believed Sameen to be dead, that Decima and Samaritan had won and took the only person she ever felt connected to. Shaw never judged her, wasn't scared of her, and trusted her when no one else would. Sameen might not have had the same feelings as she had for her, but Sameen could have developed them if they had gotten a chance. Root wasn't that delusional to think that the kiss Shaw laid on her was anything other than to shut her up, stun her long enough to push her away, and to save them. But Sameen lingered just a second longer letting her know that maybe someday in the bleak future that it could be a possibility and it was stolen from her. Root wanted to grieve and take revenge on the people that took her away. But she couldn't, she felt stuck, felt frozen and numb because she didn't know one way or the other. Was Sameen alive or not? And SHE wouldn't tell her, all leads had dried up, and so she had been teetering on the edge. SHE wanted her to get back to fighting Samaritan who was trying to recreate the world, but Root hadn't known if the world was even worth saving if Sameen wasn't in it. What would be the point? So other people can be happy, so other people can be with their loved ones, and she could not? How was it fair?

But surprisingly enough John had helped her with the mixed feelings she was dealing with, not Harold or HER, because he had gone through something similar. Oh sure, their situations were different and yet took them to the same result. Wanting to fade away, wanting to let the anguish they felt bury them…suffocate them until they were as dead as the ones they loved. John helped her realize that Shaw would want her to continue to save the world, to not let her probable death be in vain, just as he did for his detective. Their last conversation had been illuminating, John didn't force her one way or another, just explained why he had to give up on their desperate search for Shaw and she appreciated the candor. The big lug would never win awards for being the most talkative but he didn't need it, it was the things he didn't say that spoke volumes. His silent support of her continuing her search for Sameen against the wishes of the machine and Harold was palpable and appreciated even if she wouldn't admit it to him.

The lone knock on her door jostled her out of her thoughts. Root clutched the medal tight in her fist, blinking fast to banish the tears that dared to well up in her brown eyes. She moved to the door, free hand poised at one of the guns in the back of her pants. She looked through the peephole finding no one there. Root pulled out her gun, before opening the door, and found it empty.

She looked up and down the hallway, seeing no one, but found a manila envelope on the floor before her door simply addressed to: Root. Not the alias the apartment was listed under, nor Samantha Groves, but Root. She snatched it up, slamming the door shut. The handwriting wasn't someone's she readily recognized, but it was someone who knew her real identity. She locked her door up tight, slid the curtains closed so no one could see where she was in her apartment before sitting down on the couch with her guns on the coffee-table. If anyone came barging in here, she'd take as many as she could with her.

Root opened the tabs of the manila envelope, before sliding out a card. It simply had an address with a time written on it. She eyed her watch before grabbing the card, scooped her leather coat up, and hurried out of the apartment to head to underground subway to speak to Lurch or Harold.

* * *

AN: So if any Careesers that skipped the Root part if you read the last couple sentences just above this AN literally just above this line break, you will get what you need for next chapter. And for those that read it, ignore this :D Next chapter: Root has a meet and greet. And Joss gets wind that Dominic is going to make his move on John. Thanks for being patient for another update. I'll try to post sooner but this is a work in progress so I am going slow. Anyways thanks!


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